From another's perspective
by Akatsu Fate Chan
Summary: Daisy; sister of Harry. Harry, brother of Daisy. Both of them were sent to live with the Dursleys, until one day they find out they're wizards. What is up with the headmaster of their school, the enigmatic Tom Marvolo Riddle, or Professor Riddle considering he is also their DADA teacher? And what's up with Potter family, who have the same surname as them, but? POV Daisy.
1. Chapter 1

"Wake up!" a shrill voice shouted, almost rupturing Daisy's eardrums. The girl laying inside the cupboard disentangled herself from her brother, opening the cupboard door by the small hatch inside of it. It was Saturday, which meant that the siblings didn't have school. A normal day would bring Daisy and Harry to make breakfast for the whole family, after which they would make their way to school. While the siblings were trying to learn, Dudley would do his best to osterich them completely and force the rest of their class to do the same. After that, there was breaktime. A time when everyone had to go outside and socialise in the courtyard. At least, that is what the teacher's plan usually was. However, usually Dudley and his friends would partake in the game nicknamed, "Harry hunting," when they would chase the quick footed boy into a tree, or if Harry didn't manage to avoid them well enough, they would end up bruising his pretty face. Because of that, the rest of the breaktime would be taken up by Daisy patching up Harry's bruises. The teachers carelessly believe some rough play between family is healthy and won't ever tend to Harry because of that believe.  
After school, Harry and Daisy were to go straight back home and do their list of chores, which usually included tending to the garden, doing the dishes and sweeping the kitchen and living room. Quite a big amount for two seven years old to do on their own. Of course, Harry and Daisy would have been grateful if it was left to that. Instead, they were often bullied by Dudley when he came home from whatever he usually does and insulted and deciprated by their uncle and aunt at any moment of the day, forced to believe that their hard work had been useless and that they were unwanted and good for nothings.

"Good morning, Aunt Petunia," Daisy greeted once she walked into the kitchen. She wore one of Dudley's old t-shirts; it was big enough to act as a rather shapeless dress. Aunt Petunia always wears a look like she drank something sour, but moreso when Daisy tried her hand at politeness. That same look decorated her face at the moment. Daisy rummaged through the fridge, taking out what was needed for their breakfast. She then moved to the stove, practised hands setting up the pan and having the bacon sizzling in moments. Her brother entered, his hair as unkept looking as it always is in the morning. He let out a yawn and didn't bother even greeting Petunia, who was watching the neighbours from the side window, spying on them rather blatantly. Harry was Daisy's twin, and the only difference between them was their gender and personalities. Both had the same pretty face which often reminds people of their mother, if said people had known their mother. As her nephew and uncle entered, she dished up the food and took a seat next to her brother. Dudley was the first to finish, and immediately after commented that the food was a disappointment not fit for pigs to eat. Harry concluded in a whisper, "Are you less then a pig then, considering you shoved the food down with relish?" after which Daisy snorted, trying in vain to avoid laughing. "What's so funny?" Dudley asked, at least smart enough to understand that he was being made fun of, even if he hadn't been able to hear what Harry said. Daisy gestured with her arms in a placating manner; "Did I make you worry? I apologise." The colours her nephew's face could turn were honestly fascinating. He thought her "Creepy," considering that she was nothing but cordial towards him, outwardly. Considering Petunia had forbidden him from physically attacking women, he couldn't put a stop to her behaviour either. At the moment, he was an unsightly blanch colour.

Daisy quickly gobbled her food down before the rest of her family would be done. She was in no haste to hear some other insults lavished at her food. In other words, If she escaped before they were done, she'd also escape the insults. Her brother followed after, only half finished but nevertheless full. He had a small stomache, brought about by giving Daisy half of his portion when they weren't the ones making food and had to rely on Petunia to feed them, something she regularly forgot. When she did remember, she'd give them an insufficient amount to have a full stomach. Daisy ended up retreating to the garden.

The neighbours were out as well, the woman hosing down the car while her two children were simonizing it, getting gleefully wet in the process. One noticed her looking and screwed up her face. Daisy and Harry weren't exactly popular in the neighbourhood. Their relatives fault, of course, considering that neither Harry nor Daisy had ever interacted with the people of the block and as such, couldn't have caused hatred and/or fear to sprout forth. Daisy aimlessly started weeding the garden. "What's up?" Harry asked, scooting over and pulling out a daisy. He extended it to her with a flourish. "I'm alright, I suppose," she commented, smiling faintly at the daisy. "Thank you, I appreciate the gift, but I'm allergic to daisies." Of course, he knew this. He was simply teasing her in his usual manner. "Always so polite," he murmered, as he pulverised the daisy into mush, wiping his trousers with the remains, and then twirled a finger around a long strand of her hair. They stayed in that pose for a thoughtful moment, before she slapped away his hand, wrinkling her nose at the pungent scent of the daisy lingering on his hand. "Let us continue. It is no good to procrastinate." With an indifferent shrug, he returned to his work.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer.

The school was having a bring-your-pet-to-school-day. It was very interesting seeing the different kinds of animals all in the same room. There were aquariums in which small fishes swam letharigly around. There were also lizards and turtles sunning on rocks inside of their glass cases. But one animal took the cake, and attracted all the attention. A real live boa, around the neck of a student's older brother. All the students crowded around the teen, though the teen warned not to touch the snake all at once, as the snake would dislike that. So instead, they took turns petting it, brushing palms against it's head and it's back. An adventurous few were even allowed to have it draped around their neck, though they kept very still underneath it, probably out of cautious. Daisy herself stood of a few meters, nevertheless eyeing both the snake and boy with awe, mesmerised. The boy looked like a wild child; long dirty blonde hair wrapped in a red bandana underneath a white cowboy hat. Unusually tanned for being a brit, with clear blue eyes. The snake was a beautiful burnet orange, forked tongue flickering out to taste the air. They made a pretty striking picture, together that way. "Ooh? You're first infuation?" her brother asked, as he leaned his chin onto her head, staring at the teen. Daisy leaned into his psuedo embrace. "Yeah," she admitted, "He's quite enthralling." He chuckled softly, displacing a few strands of her hair. "He's not bad." They sat there for a while, simply watching. Daisy really felt like she wanted to wear that snake as well. At the same time, however, she didn't. There was the possibility that it would lash out. She was overly cautious. Eventually, she simply patted it, wonderingly. The scales were dry and smooth at the same time. Different from their "Slimy," depiction. He moved on after Harry had his turn. Daisy didn't think it was her place to ask for the boy's name. Nevertheless, she made careful note of his younger sister, her classmate's name. She'd at least know how to contact him. The rest of the week passed without events, until it was Dudley's birthday.

Dudley was whining about not having the same amount of presents as last year. The amount was a ridiculous 36 and he still wasn't satisfied. Also, he was still supposed to have his aunt Marge's present and managed to manipulate his mother into buying him two more. Dudley didn't cry; they were crocodile tears. Seriously, why throw a temper tantrum when you already have so much things? Daisy, who was standing a bit farther away from her relatives, screwed up her face. Harry patted her back in sympathetic agreement.  
Later on, it was time for the trip to the zoo. "Why does he need to come? I don't w-want him to come!" Dudley cried, though those tears immediately stopped once there was a knock on the door and Pierce Polkiss walked in. He didn't want to look like a pansy in front of his friends, naturally. Aunt Petunia meanwhile, explained why Harry and Daisy had to come. Mrs. Figg had broken her leg coming down the stairs and tripping because of one of her many cats. "Was the cat alright, Aunt Petunia?" Daisy asked, bothered. "Of course!" Petunia snapped before she went inside of the car. "Let's go," Harry suggested, pulling Daisy inside the car alongside him. He laid his head down onto her lap in the cramped space. She smiled gently, stroking his hair between her fingers. The zoo was quite big; there were great cats, a giraffe and even a hippo. There was also a reptile section and monkey cage. At first, the visit was rather boring because Harry and Daisy had to follow their relatives where they wanted to go, which was mainly the herbivore creatures, until they stopped for an icecream break. At the icecream stall, the woman watched askew as Dudley was given a knickerboxer glory and Daisy and Harry were left with nothing. "What about them, miss?" the woman asked, voicing her concerns. Her voice was nice and mellow and sincere. "Oh, they wanted to go look at the animals farther, don't mind them," Petunia tittered nervously as her hands gestured behind her back for them to leave. Harry nodded, and taking her hand, they walked away. "Hey, let's go there," Harry ventured a suggestion, pointing to the sign saying "Serpent house." Daisy cocked her head to the side. "Sure, if you would like that," she commented politely and he cheered before he flew towards the section, hand pulling her firmly along. She hid a fond smile behind her free hand.  
Most of the creatures kept asleep in their glass cases. There was a boa constrictor that looked bigger then the rest, which attracted Harry's attention. It was sleeping, though. Daisy impatiently tugged his sleeve, "Could we go observe the lions? I would like that very much."  
Her widened eyes lcoked onto his, cajoling them unverbally. "Of course," he stated, sighing like he was used to it. At the exit of the house they came across Dudley. He shoved his way past Harry, his force enough to make him teeter before he regained his balance. "Ouch," he commented, as Daisy extended a hand to help him upwards. Both regarded Dudley from across the room as he raced to the same serpent Harry had been so interested in, practically pressing his face against the glass once there. He knocked on the glass, harshly. The serpent did not wake. "How boring, you ugly thing," he complained, "Do something! NOW!" It was almost like he was speaking as he would towards Harry. Well, except the insult of it being an ugly thing. Dudley had never said that towards Harry, as of yet.

Harry smoothed his face into sympathy. "That snake must feel like we do, a circus attraction," he whispered to Daisy who nodded. As Dudley began to badmouth the snake even more, Harry was feeling the stirrings of anger, obvious from how his knuckles went white and the green in his eyes became more like emerald fire. Daisy, who wanted to placate him but knew that Harry's temper wasn't so easily cooled, said nothing. Suddenly, the glass disappeared and Dudley fell into the cage.

Of course, their luck turned against them as that was the moment that their uncle and aunt walked inside, and immediately noticed Dudley's predicament and the serpent who hissed at Dudley, before escaping. The hiss sounded almost like words, "Thank you amigosss," which was impossible. Snakes can't talk. "You," Veron said, turning his attention to Harry as Aunt Petunia cared for the absolutely soaked Dudley. His face was a rather unattractive blotchy tomato red. "Cupboard- right now," he bellowed, causing others in their surroundings to give him strange looks. It seems that he was so livid he was about to strike Harry; something he hadn't yet done, that was more Petunia's thing, but before he could Daisy stepped in front of Harry, spreading her arms. "Could you not touch him, uncle Vernon?" she asked politely, though the challenge in her gaze was enough to show her true feelings for him. Petunia eventually stood by them, Dudley in her grip, her lips a thin line.  
Back home, they weren't allowed any food. It took quite a few weeks for tejm to even escape the cupboard. To the school, it had been sent that they were sick, so much so that they were in the hospital which was why they couldn't attend classes.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer.

Daisy looked around her with awe clear in every bit of her body language, surveying all the old fashioned shops and the crowded streets. There was a flaxen woman who scoffed at how expensive something was, "Dragon heart, 3 galleons per pound? They must be mad!" and a lot of other whispered or shouted gibberish. It was almost like the people there spoke another language. Daisy couldn't wait until she fully integrated into in her opinion, a shiny new culture.

"What will we doing first, Hagrid?" she asked, turning her attention to the one who had saved them from their relatives. He was a stocky man, incredible tall and incredible huge, though it did not look like he was flabby. His hair, including his beard, were scruffy and his eyes beady. Despite the unflattering appearance he had, he had seemed to be a warm hearted man. "To the vault designated for muggle borns, of course," he said, and Harry stared at the man as if he'd just suggested they jump off of a clif. That may only be because of his rather thick scottish broque, though.

"Excuse me, but what's a muggle born?" Daisy ventured after an exchanged glance with her brother and was rewarded with an answer, "A muggleborn? O'course, you wouldn't know," he muttered to himself before he cleared his throat subconsciously at the expectant gazes lavished on him by the siblings, "Muggleborns are witches and wizards that came from reproduction between muggles, people without magic. To ensure that they also had the right to enter Hogwarts, and the means to get an education, a vault was designated by Rowana Ravenclaw and Salazar Slytherin for school stuff.

At that time, muggleborns were also forced to write a unbreakable contract not to remain in contact with any muggles they had once known, and to not talk about the wizarding world to their family. Of course, peasants weren't able to read, so only the blue bloods who actually had money were allowed to enter." He looked chagrined about what he said. Harry frowned. "And now, sir?" he asked pointedly. Hagrid visible brightened up, "Any muggleborn has a right to the vault, because of former Headmaster Dumbledore!" He began to enthusiastically praise said man, but before he could get out a sentence, Daisy cleared her throat to regain his attention. "Shouldn't we be going, sir?" she asked after which Hagrid flushed and stammered his agreement, leading them towards a building with a sign saying, "Gringrotts."

There was a plaque there, stating a rather clever poem.  
Daisy stopped to read it as her brother and Hagrid entered. *"Enter stranger but take heed, ... of finding more than treasure there." She clasped her hands together, delighted, and quickly followed her brother inside, chattering excitedly about it, "Maybe there are anti-theft charms that we can learn? Wouldn't that be so useful!" forgetting all about her usual decorum. At a counter, Hagrid stopped, talking to some ugly creature, though Daisy interrupted him with her question; "Do you know any anti-theft charms or jinxes? Anything? My country for an answer!" And the goblin seemed to be taking her seriously, as he actually seemed to be mulling it over, though Hagrid ruined her fun as he hastily intervened on her behalve. Eventually, they were led to a cart which sped over the tracks in high speed. Hagrid ended up with a green face, Daisy promptly mirroring him, though Harry was grinning with exhiliration, affected in a good way. She scowled at him when he pointed at her green face and laughed, "Green with jealousy? Hah!"

The goblin used his nails, raking it on some contraption on the vault, which uncoiled like some snake. Maybe it was a lock? Anyway, the vault swung open and a small grubby package was taken from it, where after it slammed shut. The goblin handed it carefully to Hagrid, who then placed it with as much care into his coat pocket. Harry remembered the mice inside, "That's not such a good idea," but Hagrid dismissed his concerns. Mice were known to gnaw through anything, so that was stupid. Oh well, "Not my problem." Daisy nodded in complete agreement, though she also began to pepper the goblin with questions about the security of the bank.

Her curiosity, once piqued, reared it's ugly head and wouldn't be satisfied. The goblin became more and more hostile. Who wouldn't? It was almost like she was a thief gathering information for her latest heist. The muggleborn vault was deeper inside the bank than the grubby little package, though it was opened through the same manner. There were many big golden coins, Hagrid explained their name to be galleons, some silver ones peppered throughout. Despite the amount, Hagrid only grabbed about 14 of them, the rest of the money he took were the small silver ones and the bronze ones. Know as sickles and knuts, apparently. That's when the car traveled back upwards.

First, Hagrid brought them to get their school uniforms, or robes, at Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. He left to get himself drunk. "Not someone one would send to young impressionable children," Daisy commented once he was gone, somewhat confused. Harry shrugged. "I think he's nice." Of course he did. There wasn't anything wrong with Hagrid, perse, considering how he'd safe them and how epic he'd acted when saving them; she could still vividly remember Dudley's pig tail, but still. He wasn't someone you'd respect as an adult, and as such, would listen to.  
Once again, not someone some respected school would send as a representative of said school. Which he was now acting as.

"He's the game keeper," A blonde brat said, who'd been eavesdropping rather inconspicuously. He sat next to Harry, and was being attented to by a tailor, just as Harry was. The pointy faced blond began to talk about how his father was now buying him a broom, in a rather arrogant matter of fact way.  
Daisy could see from how Harry looked, that he wasn't exactly winning any points with the brag. Daisy did keep note of it though, as Harry coldly told the blond - Draco - that their parents were dead. The blond gave his condolences, but only after asking whether their parents were his kind, witches and wizards. He gave his condolences after Harry coldly assured them they were, which was a lie. As far as Daisy and Harry knew, their parents were careless drunks who died in a carecrash. An unglamorous reality, but as far as they knew, the truth.

"So, do you know in which house you'll be?" the snooty blonde asked, changing the subject, "I'm Slytherin, of course. Imagine going to Hufflepuf; my father would probably disown me." Despite the joking tone, something told Daisy he was dead serious. "I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be that bad." Houses? What was he talking about? To not seem stupid, Harry said: "Yeah, agreed." Without giving an extensive answer. "I'm afraid I'll have to disagree; Hufflepuf sounds quite interesting," Daisy stated, bait to find out some more information about why Hufflepuf was so bad. Draco snorted, "So you want to be submissive and weak? Wow, at least your brother has some sense." Submissive and weak?

"Do you think I'd be able to be a Slytherin then? I'm unsure, you see." she said slyly. He examined her, the way she met his gaze squarely and also how she awaited his answer patiently. "Well, I don't know. You don't seem ambitious, if you want to be a Hufflepuf." Before she could follow up on that, a man walked inside, looking a bit like an older Draco, with longer hair and more of an sophisticated air. Draco hopped off of his stool and left alongside him without so much of an goodbye. Daisy and Harry exchanged a confused look, before Daisy was ushered away to get fitted into her robes by the tailor who'd first been busy with Draco.

When Hagrid returned, his breath was faul with the scent of alcohol though he didn't seem adversely affected. He led them to the Owlery to get a pet. Apparently it was a present for them, though he didn't have enough money to get them both one, so they'd have to share. "I'm sorry, but we don't really need an owl," Daisy told Hagrid, considering that they had no one to send messages to, for which they were apparently used. Hagrid nor Harry listened to her, Harry suddenly enamoured by a snow white owl with humongous eyes. She sighed, shaking her head in exasperation but with a fond smile creasing her eyes and curving her lips.

Afterwards, it was to the bookstore. Half of their books they had to take second hand, as the money wasn't enough. Fortunately, most books for the first year were reused over the years, so they could find them second hand.  
At last, it was time for the siblings to get their wands. But when they entered Ollivanders - the shop selling wands - there were already people there. A young boy, with curling black hair and his parents, a woman with scarlet hair, who was quite tall and somewhat pretty in a generic way and a man, his features chisseled and black hair messy. He wore glasses. The boy was trying wands, though Ollivander tutted now and then, and swapped them for others. Harry and Daisy waited at the back of the store.

Eventually, he had found his wand, "Fir and phoenix feather, 13 1/3 inches." Ollivander seemed surprised, "Interesting that that is your wand. The feather is the brother to headmaster Riddle." The boy's parents immediately reacted with distaste and harsh words. The boy meanwhile, seemed to be suppressing a smile. The headmaster? From what, Hogwarts? After their tirade the parents stormed out. The boy followed sedately behind, though when they met his eyes, he flashes them a sly, but friendly smile. He waved, and then disappeared out onto the streets.

"Excuse me," Daisy said, drawing Ollivander's attention, who'd been watching the boy leave.  
He asked them what their wand hand was. Daisy cocked her head to the side. "I don't understand," she admitted. "Your writing hand," the creepy man explained. Oh. "My left, probably." She was somewhat ambidextorous, considering Aunt Petunia had a habit of forcing a pen in her right hand, because writing right is more normal than left, or something the like. Eventually, she'd had to adapt. He handed her a wand which felt basically like a cold stick. She gave it a wave. It didn't react. And so it went, Ollivander handling her wands and she rejecting them. Eventually, however, she struck gold. "Cedar with a core of phoenix. 10 inches, remarkable rigid." Daisy breathed a sigh of relieve, returning Harry's smile.

Then it was his turn, and he was even worse than her. Finally, however, Ollivander returned with a specific box. He handed the wand inside it to Harry. Red sparks shot out like a fountain of fire, and Daisy who was close to him, could see that the sparks had substance as they scorched the floorboards beneath him. She recoiled. "Woah." Ollivander seemed pleased, but also mystified. He prattled on about how "Curious," it was that Harry was meant to have that wand, as apparently it's so called brother gave Harry his scar. Strange, that, considering they'd grown up in a muggle house and their parents, as far as they knew, were at the very bottom of muggle society before they died. Daisy doubted that wizards would mix with those kinds of people.

Hagrid was impatient for them to leave, as so they followed the half-giant outside. When it was time to say goodbye, Hagrid wailed in a hand kerchief. He seemed to have taken to them as much as Harry had, vice versa. "I bid you adieu," Daisy said, before she went into her house which was suspiciously quiet, Harry following after a companionable pat to his shoulder.

*Rowling's poem, naturally.

**Rowling's notes on Fir wood.

Fir

My august grandfather, Gerbold Octavius Ollivander, always called wands of this wood 'the survivor's wand,' because he had sold it to three wizards who subsequently passed through mortal peril unscathed. There is no doubt that this wood, coming as it does from the most resilient of trees, produces wands that demand staying power and strength of purpose in their true owners, and that they are poor tools in the hands of the changeable and indecisive. Fir wands are particularly suited to Transfiguration, and favour owners of focused, strong-minded and, occasionally, intimidating demeanour.

***Rowling's notes on Cedar wood.

**Cedar**

Whenever I meet one who carries a cedar wand, I find strength of character and unusual loyalty. My father, Gervaise Ollivander, used always to say, 'you will never fool the cedar carrier,' and I agree: the cedar wand finds its perfect home where there is perspicacity and perception. I would go further than my father, however, in saying that I have never yet met the owner of a cedar wand whom I would care to cross, especially if harm is done to those of whom they are fond. The witch or wizard who is well-matched with cedar carries the potential to be a frightening adversary, which often comes as a shock to those who have thoughtlessly challenged them.


End file.
